


20 Hours

by MicahDebrink



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: F/M, Other, Pokephilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6830023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MicahDebrink/pseuds/MicahDebrink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smugleaf is secretly in love with her human teacher. When she must move to another town, her teacher gives her something she will never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	20 Hours

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: The Pokémon characters and Pokémon do not belong to me.)

20 Hours

She couldn't keep her eyes off him. How could she? She was at probably one of the first schools for Pokémon. Of course, she had to be in a privileged family to afford this; her parents expected her to marry someone "decent" and of "social class", but what the fuck do they matter?  _Okay, he's older, a lot older than you._  She admired the human form; so much that she studied human anatomy at her school. Even though the students were Pokémon, the humans were still teachers; she saw the beautiful human form that graced the soul of her teacher. As long she could grab his attention, the form would be in her grasp.

"Teacher?"

"Yes Smugleaf?" That was her name. She was a Snivy.

"Erm…what are…the pages for the homework tonight?"  _Just throw out a question there._

"There is no homework tonight, Smugleaf, I've said many times." The class giggled. She wasn't paying attention. "But since you asked, why don't you help write this essay for me?" The class burst into laughter, followed by mild chatter.

"Oh my Arceus, I'm so sorry Smugleaf."

"You still want to play video games tonight?"

"Hey, I'll do one of them if you pay me P1500."

Not that it mattered to her. She'd do a thousand essays every day for him. No matter how her hand ached after the onerous handwriting (it was hard for Snivies to operate a keyboard), it was worth it. The truth of the matter was that she was a pretty smart student; but she'd always botch the essay so she'd get lots of his corrections on it. The marks of red pen was a part of him, that would always be hers, that she could personally enjoy under the covers at night, and that she could hold close to her in her heart.

Oh, and the best was if she got "see me". She pretended it was an invitation for a date, behind his desk, and every reprimand she was bashed with she recorded with a pen microphone; it provided a nice compliment to his red-pen corrections in her private sessions. So far she'd recorded at least 20 hours worth of his voice; she needed a massive tape recorder, which she bought secretly saving up allowance, to transfer all the recordings to. You wouldn't know how many times she got "see me" and just wanted to fess up right there and then, when they were alone in the classroom. It wasn't the humiliation she dreaded, she just got so…tongue-tied…it took all her energy to just say "yessir" or "I'll do that, sir".

She was at home, writing the essays he said were due within a week's time.

"Are you sure you don't need to take a break, hun?" Her mom called. It was almost ten and she hadn't had dinner yet.

"It's fine, mom." She mumbled, along with some incoherent gibberish.

"You should take a break, hun. You can't stay here all night."

"Yes, I can."

The next morning at school she looked absolutely terrible. Bleary-eyed, in a sleepless trance, hands trembling; but that was for a different reason. She trembled at the massive stack of paper that was her essay. Fifty-five pages, she counted. Was it any good?

* * *

 

Later that day she returned home, her proud expression for turning the essay quickly drained when her mother met her at the door.

"Sweetie…" The Serperior mumbled. Her mother looked rather sad.

"Yes?"

"We're moving in a few weeks."

 _We're leaving?_ "Oh."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know it's sudden, but I got some new work as a radio manager over in Goldenrod. They want me to be ready to work pretty soon."

 _How could you do this to me? How will I remember him? I'll be in some far away land…somehow the thought makes me feel so alone…without Teacher._  "Hmm."

"Do you need something, Smuggy?" That was her "pet" name.

 _Slap!_  Smugleaf trashed her with the Vine Whip. She's wasn't even thinking it was her mother. It was an obstacle, in her way, from getting to him. She couldn't even remember what she wrote for her essay. She couldn't remember her homework for the night. After being sharply reprimanded and sent to her room, she just sat on her bed, jittery, clammy and cold from fear, almost so fearful she didn't even know what she was fearful for. She just couldn't get out of it. She couldn't get out of this room. She couldn't get out of this town until she found some affirmation from him.  _Arceus, make it work for me! Please!_

* * *

 

Two weeks had passed, and it was Smugleaf's last day at school. She had somewhat recovered from the shock to her, but was still much more reserved than usual.  _Like anyone gives a fuck,_ she thought. She hardly made any friends; maybe they just didn't want to be around her.

"Are you okay Smugleaf?" A deskmate ventured to ask her.

"None of your business, asshole." She'd get ticked off if you bothered her; she was always glazed over, fascinated by something, you could tell from the mild smile and bright expression. It was Teacher.

"Smugleaf, can I see you for a moment?" He beckoned her to the desk.

"Smugleaf…" Teacher began. "…the school is going to miss you. So…I want to give you this parting gift. It may not seem like anything at first, but you will grow to treasure it for its sentimental value." It was a fairly large package, and quite heavy too; she could barely lift it. Maybe she should've worked harder at PE.

And Teacher gave her a wink. Smugleaf never understood at the time; he wasn't much of a winker, a rather staid and uninteresting person. What does she see in him? No one knows why any two creatures, big and small, Pokémon or not fall in love. It just…works. Like the A+ she got on the fifty-five essay she frantically scribbled in one night. She placed the graded essay that she was handed back as well on top of her wrapped gift, that "A+" in red pen smiling at her proudly. It was the first good grade she'd gotten in this class.

* * *

 

Weeks later, after moving and setting in to Smugleaf and her mom's new apartment, they were busily unpacking boxes, trying to make this tiny space home. It was a significant downsize from their old place, but Mother wanted to be close to the city. And then, she found the Gift. Teacher's last parting gift. Life had been so jam-packed these past few weeks she hadn't had time to open it. She went to her bedroom, where her bookshelf with her extensive manga collection had already been unpacked, to open the Gift.

At first she was puzzled. It was…a tape recorder. A pretty large one at that. There had to be at least 20 hours of stuff on here. She pressed "play". She gasped in surprise. It was her own voice. Her sweet, melodious voice, artfully recorded from the pen microphone Teacher must have had. I guess they had one thing in common-she gazed up at her own massive tape recorder. No matter what that meant, it was comforting to know.


End file.
